


You're Only as Old as the Woman You Feel...

by lightofdaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Incest, Infidelity, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofdaye/pseuds/lightofdaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fleur is tired of supervising Potter-Weasley beach parties, but James' presence means it all takes an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Only as Old as the Woman You Feel...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tamlane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/gifts).



> Written as a gift for Tamlane and as an excercise in hitting in her kinks. You have been warned...

The beaches below Shell Cottage were very beautiful. That was the reason Fleur Delacour-Weasley had prevailed upon her husband to buy the cottage in the first place and why they had remained there even as their family had grown. But it was also the reason why the entire Potter-Weasley family felt entitled to descend upon her during the summer and make a nuisance of themselves.

And so the coast swarmed with Fleur’s children and nieces and nephews and brothers, and sister,-in-law. All laughing and screaming and running about and just generally, being young. Victorie considered herself too old for family days at the beach, though, and spent most of her time in her flat with her boyfriend. And if they spent all their time alone for much longer, Fleur thought gloomily, she was going to be a grandmother.

There were other absences of course. Percy had made the most perfunctory of appearances while leaving Audrey, Molly, and Lucy here. And both Harry and Bill were busy all day at work as always; as Ginny had accurately commiserated with Fleur. 

Still the kids seemed to be having fun. Louis and Freddy were entertaining Lucy, Rose, and Hugo with a juggling competition. Molly and Dominique were swanning about in bathing costumes that were scanty enough to shock the former’s father if he knew she had it, while Roxy looked on enviously in modest one-piece costume. (George was much more on-the-ball as a father.)

James Sirius Potter, however, fresh from his last year at Hogwarts, lounged about and looked almost as bored as she felt. Even in spite of Dominique’s swimwear (and Fleur had no illusions about James’ designs on his cousin). Perhaps it was because she wasn't taking much notice of him wandering around in just his swimming shorts and manticore claw pendant necklace. 

Putting James out of her mind, Fleur stomped back up through the dunes to her house. Knowing that, as host, she was expected to come out sooner or later with trays laden with drinks and snacks for all, not that the others ever returned the favour, she thought darkly. 

Instead of putting the kettle on, though, she went straight upstairs to her bedroom and used the en suite bathroom. And couldn’t help but see herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. It was quite a time since she’d worn a bikini like that. Though the summer dress she wore was fine in its own way, it didn’t do much to disguise the sagging of her chest, or the thickening of her middle, or the way that strands of her silvery-gold hair were faded to just plain silver. She sighed and brushed her hair out of her face. Maybe she should find something like that to wear; maybe Bill would like that if he ever came home from the bank.

She emerged from the bathroom, better satisfied and ready to go and make a pot of tea for everyone, but the light from the bedroom door onto the hall was obscured. A tall, slender figure leaned on the doorjamb, and for a second, Fleur thought Bill had been summoned to her by her thoughts, but Bill was not remotely that shape anymore.

“Hey, Auntie Fleur,” James said, “I was wondering where you’d got to.”

“There’s another loo down stairs, Jamie,” Fleur said, confused. “You know that.”

“I don’t need the loo,” said James, taking a step into the room. “I just wondering if you were alright.”

“I’m fine,” Fleur lied. “Why don’t you go back to the beach, James? I’m sure Dominique will go swimming with you if you ask nicely.” 

“What about you? Will you go swimming with me? I’ll ask nicely,” James said and took another step into the room. Fleur blinked. He must not have realised quite how far he was intruding into her space now. They both stood next to her and Bill’s bed.

“No. I’m afraid. I don’t swim much anymore,” Fleur said, not able to keep a hint of confusion out of her voice.

“Pity. I’m sure you’d look great in a swimming costume.”

Fleur swallowed as her mouth was unaccountably dry. James had spoken in a casual voice, but he was far too old for those words to be as innocent as his tone made him them sound. She shook her head slightly. James was her nephew, though; it was impossible for his words to be some kind of come on.

Even if it was impossible, she couldn't help but gaze over him, and in only trunks, sandals, and a necklace there was a lot to see. James' body was covered in lean athletic muscle, his brown eyes were lively and full of excitement, his hair was careful arranged to be wild and random, and his sharp jaw was covered in designer stubble. Fleur shook her head again, tearing herself back to reality.

“Don’t be silly, James,” Fleur said shortly. “Now, Dom—”

“I don’t like Dom.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“I like you!” James erupted. “I only look at Dom to see what you looked like when you were young!”

Fleur stopped short. James' expression was open and honest and showed no hint of deception. She could only think that he was a _very_ accomplished liar, but even as she gazed at him, stunned, a look of desperation crossed over his face and he lunged forward and kissed her. His mouth crashed over her, pressing uncomfortably hard against her.

“Ummph!?” Fleur made an indistinct noise and tried to shove him away, but his hands had clamped down on her hips and held in her in place. This was impossible, and even if it wasn’t, it was wrong on so many levels.

But James’ eyes were raking over her body, and it felt like he was seeing for himself what was beneath her clothes. His face was full of undisguised lust. No one had looked at her like that for years, and yet that didn’t make this any less impossible.

She pulled back as much as she could.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful, Auntie Fleur,” James groaned.

“James, you’re my nephew!” Fleur exclaimed, but his hands did not move from her hips.

“Oh come on,” James said softly. “It’s not like we’re actually related.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips.

“T-that’s not the point.” Fleur insisted.

He kissed her cheek and then whispered into her ear.

“I know Uncle Bill doesn’t treat you right. I can treat you right. I’ll show you.”

He pressed a kiss to her earlobe and then licked and kissed his way downwards, nuzzling his way down under her chin.

“Jamie,” Fleur whimpered, as his mouth reached her collarbone, “Jamie, I can’t let you do this.”

James looked up at her, grinning. Then the serious expression on her face registered, and his eyebrows creased over his suddenly dark gaze. His hand dived into his pocket and pulled out his wand. Before Fleur could fully comprehend what he was doing he’d pointed it at her. Her arms were yanked behind her back by an invisible force and stuck fast there. The motion and change in weight unbalanced Fleur and she toppled over backwards on to the bed with a squeak of a surprise.

“There,” James said, “now you’re not _letting_ me do anything are you?”

He clambered onto the bed next to her; his brown eyes were dark with hunger, and his mouth descended again, planting kiss upon kiss on her chest. His hands gripped the top of her dress and pulled, so both it and her bra were yanked downwards until they were well clear of her breasts. Fleur gasped in surprise, but her voice died to a whimper as James’ strong grip moved up her body, capturing the soft flesh of her breasts, squeezing and mashing them together in an approximation of youthful cleavage. Her nipples were hard even before James lowered his mouth to them, swirling his tongue over her tits.

Fleur cried out and fought against him, her body squirming. But he was on top of her now, and all she managed to do was grind her hips against him, feeling herself press against James’ body and the smooth, hard muscle under his skin. Merlin, he was fit, she realised.

Her pulse was racing, her chest heaving under James’ attentions; Fleur was completely out of control and could barely struggle anymore. Even when James’ hand left her tits and pushed her dress up her body, so the whole thing was wrapped in a tight band just under her breasts.

His fingertips trailed down her body again, over the swell of her stomach and between the stretch marks there as they made way down inexorably between her legs.

“James, don’t,” she groaned as he toyed with the lining of her knickers.

“I've got to, Auntie Fleur, I've just got to have you.”

His fingers pushed her last remaining defence aside and pressed against her cunt. Fleur yelped and flushed pink and avoided James’s eyes, but she saw the triumphant curl to his lips as they both realised she was sopping wet. 

“Damn, Fleur,” James growled. “You want this as much as I do.”

“No, James iiiaah!” Fleur’s denial was cut off as James pushed two fingers inside her to the second joint.

“I should make you say it,” James said, his fingers curling inside her, stroking her inner walls.

“Don’t,” Fleur forced out between gasping moans.

“I should,” James repeated. “I should make you tell me how much you want it.” 

He didn’t, though; instead he pulled her knickers off and threw them away. His head moved down her body, his eyes fixed on where his fingers disappeared into her. Fleur saw him lick his lips and wondered if he was even aware he was doing it. 

That was the moment, she realised, when she could stop this. He wasn’t holding her down, wasn’t stopping her from talking. She could just tell him to stop. But then she would never know if he was about to do what she thought he was. She tried, but the words died on her lips.

James buried his head between her legs. His tongue plunged into her, replacing his fingers, and Fleur shrieked in pleasure. How long had it been since Bill had done this unasked? How long had it been since Bill had done this _at all_? Fleur’s hips moved entirely beyond her control, humping and grinding against the boy’s face as he eagerly lapped at her pussy.

When his head bobbed back up — it could have been seconds or minutes later, for all Fleur knew — his grin spread from ear to ear and his eyes were alight with eagerness.

“You’re really loud, Auntie Fleur,” he said in mock surprise. “It’s like you want us to get caught or something.”

Fleur didn’t have the breath to respond. In any case, she was pretty sure he was joking and that they couldn’t hear her way down on the beach.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the perfect plan to keep you quiet,” James said, his eyes taking on that mischievous glint again. His hands moved to her body and then turned her over. Her unbound hair went in every direction as Fleur was turned on to her front. She barely had time to be surprised as, with her arms still behind her back, her face was buried without ceremony in a pillow. James’ hands urged her up on to her knees, making her point her bum in the air. 

She heard the bedspring creak behind her, and she could imagine the grin on James’ face as he moved behind her, gazing at her upturned arse. He took a moment to line up with her and then, in one movement, buried his cock in her.

Fleur howled, her mouth buried in the pillow, muffling the sound. She bit down on it as James pulled back, but when he pushed in again, she clamped down so hard she was surprised feathers didn’t burst out of it.

James rutted against her without any kind of style or technique but with all the energy and boundless enthusiasm of youth. He just thrust as hard and fast as he could, one hand clenched around her waist, the other fisted in her hair. 

He groaned and cursed as he fucked her. Words spilled out his mouth that Fleur thought he had no business knowing, much less using on her. Even through the rush of it, Fleur could feel how wet she was, could feel it leaking out of her cunt and coating her legs. She was probably soaking James with it as well. His hips bounced off the soft flesh of her arse with every stroke, only to come back harder and faster.

He couldn’t last long like this, of course, but then neither could she. The weeks she had already gone without release let it come to her quickly. She shook as the feeling washed over her, tensing and relaxing every muscle in turn, even as James’ come gushed into her. 

They collapsed onto their sides on the bed, and Fleur’s arms came free now that she was too relaxed to have any use for them. She was vaguely aware of the make-up and saliva coating the pillow next to her and of James running his hand through her hair.

“Oh Auntie Fleur, Aunt Fleur,” he said, his eyes filled with something like adoration, “you’re so amazing. So beautiful.”

They lay there for a long moment, their breathing slowly settling down to regularity.

“Jamie,” Fleur said, mustering the last of her strength to attempt to regain some kind of sanity to the proceedings, “we can’t do this again.”

“Again?” James drawled, “Auntie, we’ve not finished this time yet.”

He made a small motion with his hips and drew Fleur's attention downwards, between his legs. Even a few minutes after his release, his cock was jutting proudly upwards, almost completely hard again. Fleur sighed, her last bit of effort had been defeated and the last of her resistance worn away at the sight. 

What a wonderful thing it was, Fleur thought as she wrapped her lips around James’ cock, to be young.


End file.
